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<title>Stardust On Your Cheeks by The_Faeries_Requiem</title>
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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29662110">Stardust On Your Cheeks</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Faeries_Requiem/pseuds/The_Faeries_Requiem'>The_Faeries_Requiem</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Annus Collection [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>NCT (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Dragons, Dragons, Fluff, Gay, How Do I Tag, I Don't Even Know, I Tried, I'm Bad At Tagging, M/M, Not Beta Read, What Was I Thinking?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-23</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-15 22:48:26</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Not Rated</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>938</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29662110</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Faeries_Requiem/pseuds/The_Faeries_Requiem</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>There it was. A dragon.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Moon Taeil/Original Male Character(s)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>The Annus Collection [2]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/2141937</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Stardust On Your Cheeks</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Mark Castee lived outside of the village for a reason. With the constant war between man and Dragons raging, it was the only safe space. It was also the only neutral territory in the country.</p>
<p>Mark was an outcast from a young age. Bullied and harassed all his life because of one small detail. He had freckles littered across the bridge of his nose and on both cheeks.</p>
<p>They’d called it the mark of The Devil. Even tried to get him hung for it. So he’d moved out of the village and built his own house on land no one could touch. They couldn’t hurt him anymore.</p>
<p>One morning, in the late winter, Mark was awoken at an ungodly hour by screeching outside his home. He raced outside, not caring about his clothes, to see what was going on.</p>
<p>There it was. A dragon.</p>
<p>This was the first dragon the young man had seen a dragon with his own ocean eyes. The beast was an impressive size, almost three times that of his house. The dragon was a bright crimson as though it had bathed in blood. It’s armored underbelly was a bright gold.</p>
<p>And it was bleeding. Wait-</p>
<p>Mark ran in front of the dragon and saw why.</p>
<p>Villagers stood on his property with long-swords and pitchforks all pointed at the injured dragon. The raven-haired man had had enough.</p>
<p>“Leave.” He demanded.</p>
<p>The villagers didn’t move. Mark raised a pale hand and gestured to the flag in the middle of his land.</p>
<p>“No weapons, no violence. This is neutral territory. Take your grudge somewhere else.” His words were fueled by bitter anger.</p>
<p>With a lot of angry mumbling and a handful of creative curses, the villagers left.</p>
<p>The young man turned to face the injured dragon, shaking his head.</p>
<p>“Humans, huh?”</p>
<p>He gestured back towards his house, hoping the dragon knew what he meant. The large creature waddled towards the building, keeping his weight off of one of his back legs.</p>
<p>Once in front of the ramshackle building, Mark held his hand out to tell the beast to stay put. The raven-haired man ducked into his home and found his medical supplies.</p>
<p>He returned to the beast outside his front door. He realised that the dragon had a torn wing and a deep gash on its back leg. He nodded to himself and set about healing the poor thing.</p>
<p>The wing would take longer to heal than the injury to the leg. Even after it had healed, there would be no guarantee of the dragon being able to fly again. Still, Mark sutured both wounds.</p>
<p>The dragon grumbled and growled in pain, but never flinched nor attacked. This close to the beast, Mark should’ve felt frightened. But there was something human about the molten gold eyes that sparkled like they held the night sky within them.</p>
<p>It took months for the wounds to fade into scars. Every so often, the villagers would return to shout and make a fuss. They stayed on their side of the border. Still there was a mass of them with long-swords and pitchforks and torches and broad-swords. They even encouraged young children, no older than five by the looks of them, to join them with daggers and kitchen knives.</p>
<p>Each time they left, Mark would shake his head and mutter to his new found friend. Sólberi. That’s what Mark had named him. The name meant bearer of the sun and with the molten gold of the dragon’s eyes mirroring the bright sun rays, it seemed fitting.</p>
<p>Then, the time came when Mark was once again roused in the middle of the night. This time it was due to insistent knocking on the old oak of his door.</p>
<p>Cautiously, the young man opened his door to discover a male the same height as himself with fiery red hair. The new male gestured mutely inwards, asking to be invited in.</p>
<p>Dumbfounded, Mark opened the door wider and nodded. The redhead padded into the decrepit house, taking in every inch of the space.</p>
<p>“So, who are you?” Mark finally asked.</p>
<p>The new male smiled.</p>
<p>“You know me, Stjörnubera.”</p>
<p>Stjörnubera? Mark pondered, bearer of stars? His confusion seemed to amuse the red-haired male as he let out a low chuckle. The house was barely lit. Candles were the only light around but still as the male stepped forward Mark caught sight of his eyes. Eyes he’d recognise anywhere.</p>
<p>“Sólberi?” the name left his lips as a whisper and yet the man in front of him heard him without an issue.</p>
<p>“Technically, my name is Taeil but yes.”</p>
<p>Taeil, that sounds Korean. He’s a long way from home.</p>
<p>“You are Korean? How’d you get so far from home?” Mark voiced his thoughts worriedly.</p>
<p>“I was banished from Korea, Stjörnubera, for refusing to fight. I got injured when I took a rest after flying constantly for ten days straight.”</p>
<p>Poor thing.</p>
<p>Mark stood there and waited to see if Taeil continued.</p>
<p>“You know, stjarnan mín, I thought I was done for the day you rescued me.” Taeil edged closer and closer until there was barely any room between the two men.</p>
<p>“Stjörnurykur,” he whispered so softly Mark wasn’t sure if he’d heard the other right.</p>
<p>“Stjörnurykur,” he said louder, tracing cold fingers over the bridge of Mark’s nose and across his cheeks.</p>
<p>“Sólskin,” Mark whispered in return, hands rising shakily to cup Taeil’s cheeks and brush away stray strands of bright red from the pools of molten gold.</p>
<p>And so, a human with stardust on his cheeks fell in love with a dragon with sunshine in his eyes.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Ok so Google said the closest language to Old Norse was Icelandic. The Icelandic phrases in this... thing are brought to you by Google Translate.</p>
<p>Sólberi - bearer of the sun<br/>Stjörnubera - bearer of stars<br/>stjarnan mín - my star<br/>Stjörnurykur - stardust<br/>Sólskin - sunshine</p></blockquote></div></div>
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